


bittersweet victory

by astronaut



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Football, Angst, Fluff, Football, Football Star!Niall, High School AU, M/M, but then not idk, ziall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-11
Updated: 2013-02-11
Packaged: 2017-11-29 00:21:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/680543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astronaut/pseuds/astronaut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>where niall is the football star and zayn is gone again</p>
            </blockquote>





	bittersweet victory

**Author's Note:**

> i don't really know what it is but thanks to the lovely makeda and also things in parentheses are niall’s thoughts. hope you enjoy!!!

niall wakes up for another day of routines, head pounding, and his back feeling like bricks were dropped on it. but its game day and the whole team is counting on him. (come on niall get up get ready don't be stupid). so he puts on his red snapback with blonde hair curling long on his neck and he thinks maybe he'll be there.

\---

the school day passes quickly, and niall forces the disappointed look off his face and sits down three seats away than where he normally is. so if maybe he walks in late, he can have his space and niall doesn't have to sit pretending his feelings weren't bursting and his smell wasn't washing waves of memories from the weekend across his mind.

but he doesn't walk in late, doesn't walk in at all. and when the teacher calls out his name, niall fight the words "he's sick," down.

\---

he stays in the bathroom for half of lunch, to break away from everyone always expecting him to laugh and talk and shine out. but really he just wants to cry, and yes he did spend all day yesterday doing that, but he doesn't know what else to do. and he's mentally torturing himself, thinking maybe zayn will be at the lunch table and then adding, (god don't be stupid niall he's not coming back you're going to have to get on without him stop crying you know he never really loved you).

\---

everyone wishes niall luck for the game, or at least they think they are. really they're all just piling on to niall's million miles high hill of pressure and nerves.

"lets hope that knee makes it through the game!" nick jokes, as niall sits down at the table and he crumbles a bit into himself because zayn isn't there and nick is just a walking reminder of it.

and harry reaches over to squeeze niall's right knee, hoping to show that he's there for him and that he loves him and zayn isn't there but that doesn't mean he won't be (yes it does zayn never just skips half a day zayn leaves for days and disappearing at odd times but this time it's forever and it's all my fault, your fault niall).

but he pushes a chuckle from his lips anyway, and nods his head. because yes of fucking course everyone hopes his bad knee stays true, this is the game of the season, the game that matters most. and there's nothing else in this small town other than football, and niall's constantly reminding himself that.

\---

when niall walks into the murky locker room, the first thing he notices is the empty locker next to his. and zayn not to be seen between the other boys; he's not sitting on the bench tying up his laces with a cigarette in between his lips and he's not leaning against the lockers. niall sighs and pretends he can't hear, feel, taste, see, smell his heart cracking and his head spinning. (get over it niall he didn't want you didn't ever care).

and when louis calls to him, "niall, where's malik at?" he pretends harry doesn't slap louis' arm and lets a shrug fall on his shoulders and pulls an uncaring, relaxed look - a perfect mask to the chaos happening inside him - but no one's really believing it.

\---

niall plays his hardest anyway, because everyone is counting on him and the coaches have spent the last few months constantly reminding him that college scouts were going to be there. he brushes zayn from his mind and lets the world slowly become green grass and muddy jerseys; a long field with white paint.

\---

with a minute left of game time, it's tied and niall remembers to look up from his feet and kicks the ball towards the goalie, but just past him.

everything slows, everyone watching the ball fly past the goalie's fingers and into the left corner of the net. and the crowd gasps together before - "OH MY GOD!" - and together the crowd blares through niall's ears and suddenly he becomes all too aware of the whole world outside of this game.

he looks over and the coaches have thrown off their hats and the benched players are reaching for the gatorade bucket and before niall comprehends what's happening - the gatorade is soaking into his skin. and he can't stop the laughter boiling through him, looking around at all these people who're so proud, so so proud of him. they keep repeating it over and over like he might forget.

\---

"horan! horan! horan!"

the football players have lifted niall onto their shoulders, and they're shouting out, loudly, proudly. and niall feels more than homecoming king, feels like an actual king sitting on his thrown, with his people, his gold but there's something missing. and in those infinities between seconds, niall ponders it. (the knights! i'm missing knights in their black armour!)

but there's no time to wish and worry about knights, when the kingdom is bowing at their feet before you. so niall pushes the thoughts back, and enjoys the feeling of being the hero.

and from his particularly great view, niall looks into the crowd, one last time. though most of it has ran out onto the field - shouting and screaming and cheering - maybe, he's here. maybe, they're here. but he can't spot anyone remotely blood related to him; no parents, no brother.

but there's a boy on the side, leaning against the metal stands, with black hair, black eyes, black clothes and black ink on his arms. and you think maybe this is the black shining knights you were wishing for.

and of course it's motherfucking zayn malik, hands pushed into his leather jacket, and niall could point out his grin from miles away.

and suddenly (that son of a bitch) he feels halfway home.

\---

louis, harry and liam smile at him from across the cake candles, and niall's wondering how could they set up a full blown party in less than an hour. but then he remembers that it's louis and liam and anything seems possible to them.

so he blows out the candles and listen to the herd of high schoolers cheer for the hundredth time (their throats are going to cry probably).

but niall's cheeks hurt from smiling and his friends are smiling back and zayn is tucked into a corner waiting to talk -- and he feels almost whole.

\---

he walks slowly over to him, feet dragging against the carpet, because the nerves and thoughts that (what if he doesn't want to stay what if he's leaving me what if he's here to say goodbye what if he doesn't want more) are shaking through him. and his heart is unfortunately still feels exposed and on show to everything. but he follows zayn, to find a better place to tall, anyway.

"zayn," he breaths out.

"niall," zayn responses and niall can feel his breath against his cheek, because they're having to talk in the small coat closet for privacy and they're basically chest to chest, toe to toe. "i've got a lot of explaining to do."

"yeah, you do." because niall's not giving himself away so easily again.

"i, um, i shouldn't have lef--left you," he starts out, voice cracking and niall's surprised; this is zayn, zayn with a strong head and heart. zayn who sports a leather jacket everyday and tattoos all down his arm. "fuck, niall - i'm so sorry. i wanted to stay, really badly, and that scared me even more. and just, it was new and surprising, still is new and - i didn't think, i didn't think i was ever going to have you."

niall nods, and keeps nodding even when zayn brings his hands to his pale face. holding his jaw, and rubbing his sticky cheeks. "i didn't think i stood a chance."

niall snaps, pulling on zayn's arm and pushing his head forward, meeting their lips together. it's rushed and desperate; like they're both finishing what they need to say, trying their hardest to get the other to realize. and niall feels like the sun is escaping from under his skin, and zayn feels he's being burned all over.

"i thought you weren't gonna come back, you bastard." niall mumbles against zayn's lips.

"i'd never leave you, niall."

and it's a lie, or it could be counted as one, because zayn leaves a lot, once or twice every few months and no one knows where he fled off to. and niall is well aware of this, almost too aware.

"that's bullshit," he chuckles, carding his fingers through zayn's styled hair.

zayn's heart skips, eyes close, "niall," he breaks out, "i've never wanted to leave _you_."

"prove it."

"what?"

"don't leave, prove to me that you care, that you still _want_ this."

"i'll always want you."

"okay."

"i'll always love you, niall."

"okay," niall answers, because it's unexpected and he's spent the day telling himself that zayn doesn't give two shits about him. "yeah, yeah, i love you too, zayn."

and niall feels it all tie together. feels like once he was a pie, baked, cut, and one by one - given pieces of himself to others - until there was nothing left. but now, it's all in reverse, like a puzzle. everyone handed back in their slice, like it was too good, too sweet for them that they almost felt sick for thinking they deserved it. and here's zayn malik, returning back his piece, now with extra whipped cream and one of his own, to make sure niall is never anything less than whole.


End file.
